


Little Moments

by ces3951



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Everybody Lives, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Snark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3412526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ces3951/pseuds/ces3951
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo and Thorin are not together, though they might as well be. They just never seem to take the time to say what is really on their minds. A smile, a hug, and so many words left unspoken because interruptions occur during every little moment. With so many responsibilities, will these two ever make the time for each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: These are not my character, if they were, the sons of Durin would never have died. 
> 
> This is just multi-chapter fluff. I wanted something sweet but sassy. It will probably be 2 maybe 3 chapters at most. Please enjoy!!

“Oakenshield!”

Thorin banged his head against the desk. His hobbit was very dear to him; after all he had practically begged Bilbo to remain in Erebor. Right now though, if Bilbo got himself lost in the mineshafts for a couple of weeks, he wouldn’t mind. Much.

“Thorin! Are you sleeping? Stop pretending, you lazy, useless dwarf! Those so called delegates from the Iron Hills are impossible. I won’t spend another day with them and their arrogance. “

Thorin raised his head and watched the tiny hobbit pace back and forth, huffing, and throwing his arms in the air. The sight made him want to smile but if the hobbit’s mood were any indication, it would not be well received.

“Those are my people you are verbally incinerating, right now,” reminded Thorin.

Bilbo glared. “So? Yavanna, save me from childishness of dwarves.”

Throwing his hands in the air for a final time, Bilbo collapsed in a seat in front of Thorin’s desk. Sighing, Thorin sat back and rubbed his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on.  Eyeing his hobbit, he asked, “ What have they done now?”

Bilbo just sank further down in the chair and groaned. “Nothing. That’s just it; they have accomplished nothing! Every trade agreement, proposal, and amendment has been ignored; even lunch suggestions have gone nowhere. They spend all their time ignoring me until I get angry and fed up, which they find offensive. Then they start shooting ugly looks my way, and speaking in that damnable secret language that I can’t know because dwarves are a recalcitrant, idiotic race. I am done, give them to Balin, or better yet force them to deal with Fili and Kili.”

Laughing, Thorin replied, “If you’re not careful, I could charge you with treason and defamation of my illustrious people.”

“Good, you can lock me away from my current source of insanity. Since there are no prisons, might I suggest the library or the kitchen?”

Thorin barked out another surprised laugh. His earlier frustration gone in an instant, he decided he would miss this infuriating, witty creature if he ever got lost in the mines.

“Dwarves do not trust easily, as you well know. You have to earn their respect,” Thorin patiently intoned.

Bilbo snorted. “You would think outsmarting a dragon would be enough, but oh no, not with dwarves. At least the elves and men give credit were it’s due.”

Rolling his eyes,  Thorin said, “Yes, your help securing trade agreements with the men and elves” Thorin grimaced at the very word, “was beyond helpful. I am aware, you don’t need to keep bringing it up. You’re just an outsider, it’s nothing personal.”

“It’s because men and elves are civilized unlike the barbarians you call people.”

“You do remember that I am a dwarf, correct?”

Bilbo closed his eyes and raised his faced to the heavens, “You remind me daily.”

Scowling, Thorin reconsidered how much he would miss the hobbit. Maybe one or two days without him wouldn’t be so bad. “Nothing will please you today, will it?”

“No.”

“Fine, Fili will take over the negotiations with the Iron Hills. Balin is too busy as it is and if we allow Kili in the room, we might as well start preparing for the war he would bring about. You are still to attend any negotiations with the elves or men, though.”

“Gladly,” replied Bilbo, his face finally relaxing. He opened his eyes and stared curiously at the paperwork on Thorin’s desk. “What are you working on?”

Now it was Thorin’s turn to groan. “Soil composition, mineral veins, stability reports, housing, food shortages, you name it there is a report for it. I have Balin dealing with the minor complaints and prioritizing tasks but there still never seems to be enough hours in the day.”

Amidst his complaints, Thorin hadn’t notice Bilbo move to his side of the desk. He jumped with he felt the light touch of fingers graze underneath his eyes.

Bilbo gave him a wane smile, “It looks like you have been using some of your night hours as well.”

“Such is the King’s burden.” Thorin smiled back at his hobbit and the quiet moment built between them. Bilbo’s eyes were warm and his face tinged pink the longer Thorin stared. Thorin reached out to grab Bilbo’s hand or caress his face, maybe even press a kiss to that snarky mouth, but a knock sounded in his receiving room. He dropped his hand as Bilbo turned toward the door and the moment like so many others passed them by.

Bilbo turned back, “I better get going. Now that I have been relieved of my Iron Hill duties, I am going to help the men of Dale with the farming plans.”

“Bring some guards with you.”

Rolling his eyes, Bilbo called out, “Come in.”

Balin appeared with an arm full of scroll and a harried look on his face. He did quirk a smile as Bilbo passed by him.

Thorin called out to Bilbo, “I was serious about the guards.”

Bilbo waved a hand indicating he heard but gave no further reply, as he exited the chamber. Thorin grumbled lowly, “And he claims dwarves are the most stubborn race.”

Balin, having excellent hearing, laughed and started dividing the reports among the prearranged piles, while Thorin watched in dismay.

“If I had known this is what awaited me once I reclaimed my kingdom, I would have succumbed to my wounds and the glory of an honorable death, ” said Thorin.

“Aye, laddie, these days the horrors of battle seem dull in comparison to task of rebuilding an empire,” mused Balin, thoroughly absorbed in his task.

Thorin grabbed his quill and refocused on a stability report from quadrant C sector 4 area 3b. A rockslide apparently and it rendered the tunnels useless. It needed his signature so the miners could survey and determine if it was worth excavating. Which would lead to more paperwork and signatures on whether he wanted it excavated. And so on and so on till he was old and grey and buried in the bureaucratic drudgery’s of kingship.

His face must have shown his despair because Balin clapped a hand on his back and gave him a cheerful grin. “It will get better in time. Once every crack and crevice of the mountain is explored then the real work can begin and you will have a whole different set of problems of your hand. It’s no different then when we settled in the Blue Mountains.”

“I must have blocked this part out of my memories. When you get a chance, find Fili. He will be taking over negotiations with Iron Hills. Bilbo has washed his hands of them and it will be good practice for my heir.”

“What of Kili? He follows where his brother does and that can not be good for our alliances.”

Thorin snorted. “Go ahead and say it Balin, he is a right terror when it comes to diplomacy. Have him torment our burglar that will teach the hobbit to disregard my order to bring guards with him. “

“As you wish, sire,” replied an amused Balin.

___________

The walk to Dale was far from pleasant. The mountain’s climate was colder and far more prone to snow and ice then the rolling hills of the Shire. Still, it would take more then cold weather for Bilbo to aggravate his allergies by riding a pony. Besides, walking was a far more natural way for Hobbits to travel. He reached Dale around midday; the sun high in the sky but its warmth did little to penetrate the brisk winds.  Bilbo was looking forward to hot bowl of stew and maybe some ale when something latched on to his collar and caused him to stumble backward.

Tilting his head up, Bilbo glared up at the unapologetic grin of Lord Bard, quasi King of Dale. “I had just praised the civility of men to the King under the Mountain, do not make me take back my words, oh King of Dale.”

“Not King yet, my dear Hobbit friend. Even after the coronation, I would still hold you among those privileged to call me by my given name.” Bard let go of his collar and watched as Bilbo straightened his coat. He looked around and frowned down at the little hobbit. “Did you come alone?”

“Yep. Do you mind if we continue this inside? I am sure my ears are frozen over.”

Bilbo started forward, leaving Bard to catch up as he made his way to the Meeting Hall, which stood as the base of the rebuilding operations for Dale.

It took less than a minute for Bard to catch up and his frown was still in place. “It’s not safe to travel by yourself. The Battle may be over but plenty still turn eyes toward the treasures of Erebor and Dale. Especially with our ranks being so few. Did King Thorin allow you to leave unprotected?”

“Thorin does not _allow_ me to do anything,” Bilbo scoffs, “he is not my King and need I remind you, Bard, that I am also not one of your subjects. Though if it makes you feel better, he wanted me to take guards.”

Bard nodded his head, but did not look pleased. “You would do well to heed his request.”

Bilbo sighed. He understood where they were coming from really he did, but everyone was running ragged already. There was no need to add to the burden with his impromptu trek to Dale.

The state of Dale was much like Erebor, with people hurrying along, making plans, and working to reestablish the once proud city. Speaking of working, Bilbo turned to Bard and asked, “What were you doing at the border anyway?”

Bard looked sheepish as he ducked around a cart loaded with supplies from the woodland realm. “I just needed a minute. I’m not used to leading people. Everyone wants something from me and half the time I have to turn my people away because there is nothing I can do. I would rather be building homes or sowing seeds then staring at endless lists and accounting ledgers.”

“I think Thorin takes naps on his paperwork, when no one is looking.”

Bard smiled, “Really?”

“Probably not,” replied Bilbo, climbing the stairs to the Hall. The doors opened and along with a wave of warm air, a swarm of advisors clamored for attention.

“Lord Bard.”

“Sire.”

“Excuse me, your Majesty…”

Bard raised his hand and silence reined among the men. For all Bard’s grumbling about his new position, there was something very kingly in his manner. Like Thorin, he could command the room’s attention without a single word spoken.

“I will make time for all of your concern but for now, Dale has been graced with the presence of Master Baggins, an emissary from Erebor. I would like to see him settled and attended to.”

The advisors could not fall to bended knee fast enough.

Not long after, Bilbo was seated in a comfortable room with a roaring fire, a bowl of stew and a pitcher of ale. He had also heard the title Master Baggins more then he had ever cared to. Now it was quiet, as he waited for Bard to make his reappearance.

Twenty minutes and three empty bowls later, Bard finally emerged looking worse for wear.

Throwing himself upon a chair seated across from Bilbo, Bard let out an aggravated groan. “Their vultures, I swear. They pick and pick until I am nothing left but bone and even then they dig for the marrow.”

“Rough meeting?”            

“It’s been nothing but rough meetings since the dragon fell but let’s not bore you with Dale’s politics. My friend, I am remiss in not inquiring why you came to Dale in the first place?”

Bilbo smiled and said, “Well in truth it was partly to get away from the dwarves but I am interested in helping with the spring crops. I am not much use in the physical rebuilding of Erebor. Nor can I help Balin or Ori because I am not allowed to learn Khuzdul. Since Dale was once the main supplier of produce for Erebor, and gardening is in a Hobbit’s blood, this is one area I can be of use in.

“Master Baggins, we would be happy to have your assistance,” exclaimed Bard. “It has been a long while since there were farmers amongst the people of Laketown, our knowledge is not as vast as it once was and would benefit any help you could provide.”

“That is good to hear, I know it is too early to begin planting but I was wondering if there were any plans in the making? I would like to start as soon as possible.”

Bard nodded. “Of course, I’ll put you in touch with Dyson, he is lead on our farming development. He…” A loud bang sounded and startled Bard and Bilbo, causing the latter to knock his empty mug to the ground.

A beaming, barely bearded face appeared in from the doorway. “Bilbo, there you are! For the only hobbit this side of middle earth, you are impossible to find. What’s going on here?” Kili, in all his wild glory, sauntered in and dropped down on to a chair while giving Bilbo a hearty pat on the back.

The pat had Bilbo grasping at the table to hold his balance and he threw a mighty glare towards the young dwarf. Kili in true fashion ignored the look and turned his grin to Bard. “Lord Bard! I haven’t seen you in some time. Been keeping busy?”

Lips twitching, Bard nodded. “Yes, young Prince Kili, we have been fairly busy. I am sure you are well acquainted with the work involved in rebuilding a kingdom.  What brings you to Dale this fine day?”

“Bilbo, of course, “ said Kili, leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Uncle, told me to keep an eye on him.”

“I’m going to kill your Uncle,” groaned Bilbo.

“I don’t think your allowed to talk about a King like that, Master Baggins,” said a laughing Bard.

Kili scoffed, “Of course, he can. Him and Uncle have an _understanding.”_

Bard raised an eyebrow at Bilbo, who was trying to sink into the table. A blush suffused the hobbit’s cheeks and another glare was leveled at Kili.

“Thorin and I are just friends,” said Bilbo.

Kili glared, “Yeah right.”

The Ereborian residents were trying to stare each other down and Bard couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. “Well my friends, as nice as it has been I have many duties to attend to,” he said while pushing his chair away from the table. “I will have Dyson sent here, Bilbo. You and him can go over the plans for the spring planting. Any suggestions you have will be much appreciated. Please take care, my friends.”

Bard gave a low bow, smiling all the while. The two stopped their silent argument long enough to bid him goodbye. Once he left the room, Bilbo turned to Kili, “What are you really doing here? And don’t tell me it’s because Thorin sent you. We both know that is not enough of a reason.”

Kili’s face crumpled in mock despair. “You wound me, Biblo. Do you think you mean so little to me? Of course, I would listen to Thorin and come to your aid.”

“Truth, Kili.”

“Fine, as long as you stop giving me that disappointed look. Fili is playing diplomat so they wanted me out the way. Besides, Uncle wasn’t happy that you chose to wander around without guards. Do you want to give him more gray hair?”

Biblo sighed but his reply was cut short, when a knock sound on the door and a tall, grey haired man walked in.

The man bowed and smiled. “Master Baggins, my name is Dyson. Lord Bard has told me of your interest in our farming plans. I am most interested in your opinions. If you have the time, I would like to go over some of our ideas.” 

Bilbo’s enthusiasm was only matched by Kili’s dismay.

_____________

“We are late for dinner,” complained Kili. “If I hadn’t pointed our it was growing dark, you never would have left. I would have been stuck talking of greens and fruit till the end of my days.”

Bilbo smiled as they rode back to Erebor. He would have preferred walking but it was late and the air had only grown colder. “You know, for all your whining, you did a great job today talking with Master Dyson. Very diplomatic. I think your Uncle has not been giving you enough credit.”

“Uncle, Balin and even Fili don’t want me taking on responsibility. They need me to be young and wild. Makes them feel better about the Battle of Five Armies. They want me to have the life they didn’t get. I, of course, indulge their whims.” Kili looked over his shoulder and shot a mischievous grin at Bilbo.

“Yes,” replied a deadpan Bilbo, “indulge would definitely be the right word.”

Kili’s laughter rang out in the clear night.

They made it back to Erebor and Kili ran off muttering about getting food before Bombur ate everything. Bilbo was just as hungry but was content to make his way to the dining hall more slowly. Passing dwarves both ignored and nodded to him in a polite fashion. The city of Erebor was still in a heavy state of reconstruction but Bilbo could see the potential. As strange as it was to think, this was home now. One day the kingdom would be glorious again, just like the dwarf that led it.

Entering the dining hall, Bilbo made his way to where a laughing Fili sat with Kili and Bofur.

“Bilbo!”

“Fili, Bofur, having a nice evening?”  Bilbo ignored the indignant ‘Hey!’ from Kili. “I just spent all afternoon with you Kili!”

“It would have been better if I hadn’t spent all afternoon listening to crabby dwarves from the Iron Hills,” groused Fili. “Honestly Bilbo, I can’t believe you abandoned me to them. I thought I was your favorite dwarf!”

Bilbo just laughed as he sat next to Bofur and began filling his plate with roasted venison and buttery fingerling potatoes.

“Stop being ridiculous, brother, “exclaimed Kili, “it is clear that I am Bilbo’s favorite. After all, he spent all day with me.”

“Not by choice,” muttered Bilbo.

Bofur shook his head. “Give it up lads, we all know our dear hobbit’s favorite is tall, dark, and kingly.

“Bofur!” Bilbo appeared aghast and Fili and Kili just dissolved into giggles.

“Well,” a smirking Fili declared, “if I had to lose to someone I suppose Uncle is the best dwarf for it.”

“Would you all stop it! Thorin and I…”started Bilbo.

“Are just friends,” chorused the three dwarves.

“I should have went back to the Shire and been a respectable Hobbit.”

“Ah, Master Baggins, I hope you don’t mean that. I just prepared you favorite meat pies,” said Bombur dropping more platters of potatoes and succulent meat pies.

“Bombur, thank goodness, finally a dwarf with sense.”

“Thank you kindly, Master Baggins. Have you seen King Thorin by chance?”

Bilbo shook his head. “Not since this morning, I’ve been in Dale all day.”

“He has been missing meals lately. I tried to send supper up to him, but he was not in his rooms or the receiving chambers,” said Bombur, who looked horrified at the thought of missed meals.

“He and Dawlin went to spar in the one of the old training rooms,” spoke up Fili. “Dawlin is butting heads with the Iron Hill generals and needs to take his frustration out on someone.”

“I thought that was what Nori was for, “snickered Kili.

Bofur snorted. “They’re not speaking right now.

Fili and Kili practically jumped on Bofur for the story. With the others distracted, Bilbo turned to Bombur and said, “I will put a plate together and make sure he eats it.”

“Thank you, Bilbo. Our King needs to someone look after him," said Bombur smiling softly.

Bilbo blushed and started gathering food items quickly to avoid the teasing from his dwarven friends. Luckily, the two princes were still harassing Bofur and didn’t notice Bilbo slipping out the dining hall.

Carrying a large plate, loaded down with food, Bilbo struck out to find the stubborn dwarf King. He would get Thorin to relax even if he had to drag him by his ear to make sure the king actually slept in a bed that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy! I had planned on two chapters but its been a crazy few weeks so I felt like I should post something to tide my readers over.

The sight of the two dwarves battling was like art in motion. Their bodies gleamed with sweat, and they moved as if they were dancing. Both Thorin and Dwalin weaved expertly between the flashes of metal, a fluidity to their movements that spoke of long familiarity. The sight entranced Bilbo, but the most appealing aspect was the large grin on Thorin’s face. It stripped years off his appearance, and spoke of the mischief he must have gotten up to in his younger years. Bilbo was too far to hear their comments but Thorin must have something derisive because Dawlin was snarling and Thorin smirking.

Dawlin let out a roar and charged, swinging his axes in sync. Thorin was on the defensive and holding his own but Dawlin’s sheer force was beyond reckoning. He was able to disarm Thorin and knock the King down in a move far to quick for Bilbo to follow. Both dwarves were breathing heavily, as Dawlin dropped his axes to the floor and sat next to his King.

Bilbo approached to hear Thorin ask, “Feel better?”

Dwalin just sighed, his big muscles shifting but didn’t reply.

“I’m beginning to think I should have brought mead rather than food,” said Bilbo.

“Dawlin does look like he needs to drown his sorrows,” smirked Thorin.

Dawlin shot a mighty scowl the King’s way. “Remember who just laid you out on the ground, laddie.”

Thorin leaned back on his hands. Grinning, he said, “Don’t let it go to your head, old friend, I let you win.”

“I’d watch who you are calling old, my king,” Dawlin replied with a raised eyebrow.

The two scowled at each other and Bilbo just smiled. “Boys, settle down. I don’t want to have to separate you two.” He placed the plate of food next to Thorin and settle down with the two warriors. He then gave the king a look. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“A King’s duty is never done,” sighed Thorin, a martyred expression on his face.

“Well it is for tonight. You are officially off duty.” Bilbo gave him a stern look and Dwalin snorted in amusement.

Narrowing his eyes, Thorin asked, “And what, my dear hobbit, makes you think you can give a king such orders?”

“Not my king. Plus, Balin said I could.”

At that, Dawlin collapsed in laughter, while Thorin mumbled under his breath. Words like traitor and mineshaft were vaguely clear and Bilbo suspected they were about him.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Dawlin clambered to his feet. He made a half bow to Thorin and said, “I’ll leave you two to your domestic. I better make sure the guards are making their rounds.”

Thorin nodded at Dawlin, and watched his friend walk away.

Bilbo spoke up. “Him and Nori still having issues?”

“Apparently. They are both being stubborn.”

“It must be hard for both of them,” mused Bilbo. “Dawlin is as straight laced as they come and Nori, well let’s just say he can be morally challenged.”

Thorin snorted. “That is putting it lightly.”

“Anyway,” continued Bilbo as he tugged Thorin’s beard, “being attracted to someone that has a completely different set of values can be difficult. They just need to find a way to compromise.”

“It’s time for them to give in or give up. If only so the rest of us can finally be put out of our misery, “grumbled Thorin.

“Oh stop being such a cynic. You’re just upset about losing the betting pool.”

“I can’t believe Dwalin hasn’t manned up by now.”

“I’m pretty sure he has, Nori is just playing hard to get.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow, “Oh really? Do tell, Master Burglar.”

“Come on, you gossipy housewife,” laughed Bilbo. “You need a break from all your kingly duties. I think food, bath and bed are in order.”

Bilbo stood and held out his hand to help Thorin up. Thorin grasped it and let himself be pulled up. He did not let go immediately, however. He stared down at his little hobbit, whose cheeks began to grow rosy. Thorin smirked, “You will see me to bed? How forward of you, Master Baggins.”

Bilbo gaped in shock at the dwarf. Seeing Thorin’s smug expression though, snapped him out of it real quick and he punched the cheeky king in the arm.

“Ouch!”

“Dawlin must have given you to many blows to the head. You need to rest before they can declare you mentally incompetent.”

“No respect,” scoffed Thorin.

They set off from the area set aside for training toward Thorin’s quarters. It was a companionable silence and neither felt the need to interrupt it. It was nice to be able to walk quietly next to the other and know there were no expectations. They could just be.

As they walked, signs of disrepair and reconstruction littered the halls of the once great city. Most of the damage from the dragon had resided in the mines, and the main halls. The treasure room was also worse for wear but not one of the most important concerns. For the most part, Erebor’s main problem was the fact that the long years had left it inhospitable. The entire city was layered in dust and there were no sustainable food sources. Currently, the elves of Mirkwood and the dwarves of the Iron Hills were providing supplies as a temporary measures, but the lack of resources prevented the majority of Erebor’s people from returning to help in the renovations. The Blue Mountains were too far for provisions to be accessible and without a permanent food source; Erebor would not be capable of sustaining a large population.

The company of soldiers from the Iron Hills had split. Half stayed to help in the reconstruction while the other half returned, so in their place, artisans and merchant could set up shop. Even at this fledgling state, Erebor was counting on trade to thrive. All the gold in the world to rebuild was not going to help, if it’s people could not survive.

To Thorin, it was a daunting task. The little that could be done barely scratched the surface of the renovations needed. Once Dale began to produce a reliable source of food, Erebor’s people could return and real headway could be made on the mountain. Unfortunately, it would be almost a year before that would come to fruition. In the mean time, they would just have to buckle down and make plans. One day Erebor would be a city of wealth and splendor but it would be a long way coming.

Just the thought was enough to send painful pulses behind Thorin’s eyes. As he lifted his hand to rub the bridge of his nose, willing his headache to leave, Bilbo let out a soft gasp.

Turning to the hobbit, Thorin inquired, “What?”

“I left the food I brought you in the training room. I’ll go down to Bombur and scrounge up some more.” Bilbo was already veering in the direction to go toward the kitchens when Thorin stopped him.

Shaking his head, Thorin said, “Don’t worry about it. I am not hungry anyway.”

Bilbo’s reply was a returned headshake, his eyes going soft. “You need to eat. This mountain can’t run without you. You have to remember to take care of yourself as well.”

“That is what I have you for,” answer Thorin, a smile on his lips.

Bilbo’s cheek turned red and he stared at Thorin with a pleased expression on his face.

Thorin could not help himself. He raised his hand to cup the hobbit’s cheek, thumb skating along the redden flesh. Staring in the hobbit’s eyes, he groped for words to encompass the depth of his feelings but none came to mind. All he could do was stare into those sweet eyes and bask in the affection reflecting back at him. Even though there was so much unsaid between them, Thorin could at least be comforted knowing it was mutual. Bilbo opened his mouth and closed it again, seeming to search for the same words. He settled a hand on top of Thorin’s and took a deep breathe before…

“Your majesty?”

And then the moment was over.

Bilbo pulled Thorin’s hand from his face and stepped back to regard the Iron Hill’s guard. He didn’t glance at the king’s face, knowing if he did, all propriety would be thrown out the window, in favor of burying his hands in Thorin’s hair and yanking him down for a kiss.

“Speak.” If Thorin barked the words out a little more harshly than normal, he felt he was justified.

The guard visibly gulped but held a steady hand out with a letter.

“It is from the Princess Dis, you majesty,” said the guard. Bilbo was impressed the guard managed to avoid stuttering. Having been on the receiving end of Thorin’s glare, Bilbo knew it was no picnic.

“Thank you.” Thorin nodded to the guard, who bowed and went away. The letter would be important. He and his sister were still coordinating plans for the Blue Mountains and the progress of Erebor. However, his hobbit was still standing there, small and utterly kissable with a slight red tint to his cheeks. Another moment interrupted but maybe not forgotten.

Except Bilbo was smiling his polite smile and was already backing away.

“I can see you are very busy, “ said his hobbit, “It’s getting late anyway and I should probably retire. You go rest. Also, you have the morning off, by orders of Balin and me. Try to do something fun for a change. You already have enough grey hair.”

Thorin returned a wane smile, cursing the guard, his sister and the very gods for conspiring against him. “I will try.”

“Good.”

Giving a little wave, Bilbo forced himself to leave the corridor and the king behind. Some days it seemed like too much to hope that he and Thorin would ever talk about all those feelings brewing between them. There was always something to do or someone to help and the few times they were alone, fate intervened leaving them both adrift with so much left unsaid. Well like always, he would have to worry about that later. Right now he had to find Balin and convince him Thorin needed the morning off.  A hobbit’s job was never done!


End file.
